


Take A Chance

by vix_spes



Series: Hobbit Kink Meme Fills [1]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bullying, Flirting, Homophobia, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-09
Updated: 2013-06-09
Packaged: 2017-12-14 11:29:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/836397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vix_spes/pseuds/vix_spes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ori had finally plucked up the courage to venture out by himself only for it to go more than a little wrong. Of course, there were some upsides to the evening as well…</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take A Chance

**Author's Note:**

> I’m slowly working my way through a whole list of prompts that grabbed me on the hobbit-kink meme and this was next on the list. I have changed things a bit from the original prompt but hopefully that’s okay… written for [this prompt](http://hobbit-kink.livejournal.com/6263.html?thread=14539639#t14539639). Beta-ed by mahmfic

Ori took a deep breath and tried to quash his nerves as he looked up at the bar in front of him. He knew that this was completely ridiculous, that he shouldn’t be nearly twenty-one and afraid of going into a bar by himself but that was the way that things were. Well, it wasn’t scared as such, more nervous. That sounded better didn’t it? Ori had picked the time and place carefully and had chosen a bar in the town where he was at university, rather than venturing out while he was at home so as to avoid the possibility of running into one or other of his brothers or anyone else he knew well. Even though this bar was in the same town as where he went to university, he had chosen a bar that was on the opposite side of town to the campus and thus was unlikely to be a place of choice for university students. If there were students in there, then the likelihood of Ori knowing them was slim.

Knowing that he could very well stand out here all evening if he wasn’t careful, he gritted his teeth, crossed the road and walked into the bar, hoping that he looked more comfortable than he felt. Of course, standing at the bar posed yet another problem; what to drink. Ori didn’t have any problems with alcohol and he actually quite liked the taste but he just couldn’t understand the need to drink it on a regular basis. As such, because he drank it so rarely, he wasn’t even completely certain what he actually liked. What he did know was that he wasn’t a big fan of the fancy wines that Dori was so fond of and the last time he tried the stout that Nori favoured he had thrown up. Deciding to go for something easily quaffable, he ordered a pint of cider, breathing an inaudible sigh of relief when he wasn’t asked for ID.

Spotting a group of rowdy men in their twenties looking as though they were heading into the bar Ori made for a table tucked away in the corner where he hoped that he would be able to go unnoticed and pulled his ever-present sketch book out of his messenger bag. As he sipped on his cider, he indulged himself in one of his favourite hobbies – people watching – idly sketching things and people if they took his fancy. There was one person that definitely caught his interest; a man sat catty-corner to him, more in shade than light but what little he could see definitely caught Ori’s eye.

Of course, the fact that things had been going so well so far meant that they were now going to go spectacularly badly because that was obviously the way that the world works.

The group of young men had indeed come into the pub and had been joined by a group of giggly young women who didn’t seem to be wearing very much clothing and Ori could feel himself blushing just looking at them. He was absolutely positive that it a couple of them bent over then they would be showing the world their knickers. Unfortunately, in order for Ori to keep sketching the mysterious man in the corner he had to employ a mixture of looking through and looking round the group. And of course, that was where the problem arose.

Ori didn’t know what he had done, in fact he was fairly certain that he hadn’t done anything, but somehow he managed to grab the attention of the group of idiots. They had already been heckling other patrons of the pub, mainly commenting on various women in the place despite the fact that they had women with them, and more than one group of people had already left the building. They obviously viewed Ori as an easy target considering that he was by himself. They started off by simply directing comments towards him, trying to get a rise out of him although Ori did his very best to just ignore them. That wasn’t too hard as most of it was things that he had heard over and over again growing up. Mostly it was jibing at the fact that he was by himself which of course devolved into speculation as to why he was sat by himself and generally just childish comments as to how he had no friends. Again, nothing he hadn’t heard before so he was able to shrug them off fairly easily.

Then the women joined in, much to his surprise, commenting on his clothes and how it looked like his mum had knitted them for him. Ori had flushed because they hadn’t been far off the mark; the cardigan he was wearing had been knitted by Dori and was one of the most comfortable items of clothing he owned. He felt the blush spread to his ears as the same woman commented that maybe if he didn’t look like a baby librarian he would have a date and not be by himself. It got harder and harder though as the comments and the incredibly thinly-veiled insults just kept flowing with them speculating wildly about his life; how he must still live at home with his parent, asking if he had a girlfriend, if he’d ever kissed anyone, asking if he was still a virgin and so on until somebody commented that if you ignored the cardigan he was quite well-dressed and fashionably so … maybe he was gay and was looking for a boyfriend instead of a girlfriend. Through all of the comments the idiots kept moving steadily closer until they were stood around the table, boxing Ori in. Not wanting to look any of them in the eye, Ori resolutely looked over their shoulders but that was apparently not the best idea he had ever had.

“Are you staring at my woman?”

Ori was dumbstruck at the man, the apparent ring-leader of the group, who was suddenly inches away from his face, so close that he could smell the alcohol on his breath; he didn’t know how to respond. This was the reason that he didn't go out, because things like this didn't happen all the time and of course it would happen to him.

“Nah, he was staring at the bloke behind you.”

“H-how did you know?” Ori could have kicked himself. He had managed to stay silent while they speculated as to whether he was looking for a boyfriend or a girlfriend and he spoke up in response to that? “I mean, w-what makes you say that?”

“I was right. We’ve got a little gay-boy here.” The idiot in question stepped closer, snatching Ori’s sketch book and leafing through it. “See, he was even drawing him.” The sketch book got tossed over a shoulder, falling to the floor.

Now the previous comments and insults were joined by homophobic slurs and a progressively more upset Ori wondering why he had ever opened his mouth never mind why he had thought coming out this evening was a good idea in the first place. And then they started shoving him, pushing at his shoulders until he was forced to move from his chair before it toppled over and they had him pinned up against the wall. From the little of the pub that he could see, the other patrons were hovering as though they weren’t completely sure what to do; should they intervene or should they call the police? And then his view was blocked by a broad back clad in a black shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Hints of dark ink peeked out from the rolled up cuffs and Ori was fairly certain that the man’s biceps were the size of his thighs. Okay, so he may be exaggerating a little bit. Tilting his head up, Ori could see the glint of piercings lining the man’s ears and a bald head.

It was his mystery man from the corner.

“I think that’s enough don’t you.” The words were growled out and sent a shiver down Ori’s spine, the good kind of shivers as well.

The man who was obviously the ring-leader and the one who had been hurling the most abuse at Ori, obviously displeased by the fact that this _mountain_ of a man had inserted himself in between him and his target, decided to take things further and attempted to throw a punch. Even though he had been drinking, Ori was fairly certain that had it still just been him against the bully then he would have been floored in seconds. Instead, the man’s fist was caught in the saviour’s hand and just held there. The man had obviously imbibed more alcohol than he had sense however, because he simply attempted to throw a punch with his free arm. It made contact with the bigger man’s bicep but obviously didn’t make much of an impact as he barely flinched. Instead, Ori’s mystery man simply pulled his arm back and let his fist fly, hitting the idiot in the face.

“You broke my nose!”

“I’ll break the rest of you if you don’t bugger off. The same goes for the rest of you.”

It didn’t take long for the majority of the men to scatter although the man with the broken nose lingered despite everything. Ori couldn’t determine whether that was through alcohol-fuelled courage or sheer stupidity. Whichever one it was, it didn’t last long as Ori’s saviour took a threatening step forward and the man fled, obviously not wanting another bone broken.

"Are you okay, lad? Did they hurt you at all? This really isn't your kind of place. Maybe you should go home after what nearly happened."

The thing was, Ori really did want to go home. Of course it was just his luck that something like this had happened but at the same time, he couldn’t help but be a bit grateful because it meant that he had an opportunity to speak to the mystery man that he had been sketching. That would only happen if he could actually get a word out of his mouth.

“C-Can I buy you a drink first? You know, to say thank you?”

Ori could feel himself blushing furiously as he spoke. He just hoped that his saviour didn’t shoot him down in flames. As interesting as the other man had been hidden in the shadows and from a distance, up close he was fascinating. Ori’s eyes trailed over the multiple tattoos and piercings, his fingers itching to get the designs down on paper. He jolted out of his observations as the man in front of him spoke again.

“If you’re sure that you don’t want to go home then I’ll have a Guinness. You might want to get yourself something as well. You know, for the shock.”

Of course the man would like the stout that Ori hated. As Ori made his way to the bar, he considered the man’s other words - that he should get himself something stronger. He wanted to, he really did but he knew that considering his complete lack of tolerance for alcohol, if he even had a shot of something like whiskey then he would undoubtedly make a fool of himself. Determined not to do that, he ordered the Guinness and another pint of cider before carefully carrying them back to the table that he had originally occupied. He took a sip of cider to bolster his courage before he spoke.

"W-what's your name? I mean, you saved me and I’m very grateful but I don’t even know your name."

“Dwalin. At your service.” The man dipped his head slightly but kept his eyes on Ori’s the whole time.

“I’m Ori. Thank you very much for stepping in like you did, I really appreciate it.”

“Glad I could help.”

They sat in slightly awkward silence for several minutes, supping their pints before Ori’s saviour, before _Dwalin_ broke the silence. “I think this also belongs to you,” handing over Ori’s beloved and now slightly battered sketch book.

“Oh! Thank you! I’m so relieved that they didn’t take it.”

“You an artist then?”

“Why would you say that?” Ori narrowed his eyes. There was no way that the other man could have known that.

“I may have snuck a quick peek while you were at the bar.” Dwalin looked completely unrepentant and Ori found himself not minding too much that the other man had committed what Ori would normally regard as a breach of privacy. “Besides, I saw you drawing before it all kicked off.”

“No, I’m not an artist, I just draw for fun. I’m actually studying at the university.”

“Studying what?”

“Classical Literature and Civilisation and Philosophy. Joint Honours.”

“Impressive.”

“What is it that you do?”

“I’m a mechanic. Own a shop a few streets from here.”

Ori had thought that the conversation would remain stilted, they would both finish their pints and then they would go their separate ways. He hadn’t expected for Dwalin to ask to see his artwork and for them to get stuck into a long, involved conversation about anything and everything that only paused when Dwalin went to buy another round at the bar. As a result, he was more than a little surprised when their conversation was broken by the sound of a bell ringing and the cry of _“Last orders!”_

“Can I give you a lift home?”

Unless Ori was very mistaken, there was hope in Dwalin’s eyes; a spark of hope that said that, like Ori, he didn’t want this evening to end either.

“That would be lovely but should you be driving? Haven’t you had too much to drink?”

“I’ve only had a pint and a half and I’m fairly certain given my size that alcohol doesn’t affect me as quickly as it does you. I’m still good to drive. Come on, finish your drink and we’ll go.”

Ori did as he was told, draining his pint and slipping his sketch book back into his messenger bag before he slung it over his shoulders. Following Dwalin out of the pub, he wasn’t sure what he was expecting but it wasn’t for Dwalin to lead him to a little side-alley next to the pub rather than the nearest car park.

“Um, that’s your vehicle?” Ori looked nervously at the rather big and dangerous looking motorbike that Dwalin had led him to.

“What did you think I’d drive lad? A nice safe Vauxhall?” Dwalin’s tone of voice was slightly mocking but the smile that accompanied it said that he was just teasing. He moved over to the bike and took out two helmets, handing one of them to Ori as he shrugged on a black leather jacket before putting his own helmet on. “Put your helmet on and get on.”

Ori watched appreciatively at clinging denim as Dwalin turned and swung his leg over the bike, settling down and starting the engine. It was only when Dwalin looked over his shoulder that Ori realised he had been staring and scrambled to put the helmet on. Then he came to another realisation that had him pausing before he actually got on the bike. He was going to have to sit as close as he could to Dwalin so he didn’t fall off the death trap which meant that his arms were going to be wrapped around that barrel chest and his crotch was going to be pressed up against the older man’s fairly amazing arse. There was no way that he could do that without getting hard. Maybe he didn’t actually have to cling to Dwalin or sit quite as close.

“You’re going to have to hold on a bit tighter than that if you don’t want to fall off.”

He was just going to have to take a risk and hope that either he got lucky and didn’t get hard from this or hope that Dwalin didn’t notice if that were to happen. Neither of those things was too likely but judging by the rest of his evening, things couldn’t get much worse.  He squeaked as Dwalin reached a hand back and slid it round the back of Ori’s thigh, using his grip to pull Ori that bit closer to him. Ori reciprocated by sliding his arms tightly around Dwalin’s muscular torso and was rewarded by Dwalin’s hand definitely lingering as it squeezed Ori’s thigh before sliding back round to the handlebars.

Interesting.

Maybe he could take another chance when Dwalin dropped him off at his flat. After all, he’d had gone to the pub by himself, been shoved around and shouted at by a homophobic idiot and then been saved by an attractive tattooed stranger. He’d even managed to buy said stranger a drink. Surely asking for a phone number couldn’t be too terrifying after all of that?


End file.
